


Waitin' For The Man With The Shield

by PumpkinDoodles



Series: Merry Christmas, Baby [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, F/M, Meet-Cute, Sharon is totally Steve's adopted relative like it should have been, Steve Rogers loves Christmas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2018-12-01
Packaged: 2019-08-11 07:10:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16471091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PumpkinDoodles/pseuds/PumpkinDoodles
Summary: A Christmas Shieldshock Meet-Cute





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing!

The morning of November 1st

Washington, DC

 

“Oh, no,” Sharon Carter said, “oh, no.” She’d stepped out of her bedroom at the sound of a noise at six in the morning and been greeted by a bevy of...tinsel? It was spread out all over the floor. There was a live Christmas tree in the center of the room. The top half blinked with multicolored lights. She lowered her gun and called out.  “Steve? Steve, I gave you that key for emergencies!”

“Yeah? Good morning,” Steve said happily, emerging from her kitchen with a stand of lights around his neck, “whaddya think of the tree, Shar? I ordered her special from a nice fella in Vermont, owns a Christmas tree farm.” He gave her such a hopeful look that Sharon’s resolve to tell him to take it all down faltered.

“It’s...nice?” Sharon said, “very...tall.” The tree practically touched her ceiling and was twice as wide as Steve’s shoulders. Sharon circled the mammoth tree, blinking. “Steve,” she said, “I think you’ll need to move this yourself after Christmas?” She hoped it didn’t die before the 25th.

“Oh, yeah, had a bit of a time getting it up here. Poor Mrs. Popov next door looked real surprised,” he said. “Still, it’ll be great to have a nice big family Christmas, won’t it?”  Ever since her great-aunt Peggy’s long-lost love had come out of the ice and started working for SHIELD, he’d treated Sharon like a little sister. She’d even caught him introducing her as his niece once or twice. Which she would have been, Sharon thought, if things had turned out as intended in the 1940s. Which, for him, was like, twenty-odd months ago or something? Sharon tried to be understanding. In her more lucid moments at the healthcare facility, Aunt Peggy had advised Sharon to hit Steve with something ‘til he learned to read the room and/or talk to women, but Sharon just couldn’t. He was _Captain America_ after all. Wasn’t that treason?

“Have you already invited people?” Sharon said.

“Well, Buck’s gonna be here in a week or two, can’t wait for you to meet now that the Wakandans finished his, uh, medical business and Tony got him that presidential pardon. So, I thought it would be nice to have him and Tony meet, you know?” he said.

“How’s Tony feel?” Sharon asked tentatively.

“Pepper and his therapist say it’s all right. Pepper’d tell me if it was a bad idea,” Steve said.

“Yeah,” Sharon said.

“I made coffee,” Steve said. “I’ll get you a cup, Shar.”

“So, Bucky, Tony, Pepper--” Sharon began.

“I invited Natasha and Bruce Banner, too,” Steve said from the kitchen.

“Where are they going to stay?” Sharon said. She and Steve both lived in small apartments. You couldn’t just put Bruce and the Other Guy in your spare bedroom, as delightful as Bruce was. You needed reinforced walls and beds and chairs and…

“Oh, Tony’s renting a place,” Steve said. “Might be a hotel, might be a house, he hasn’t decided. But it’ll be big enough.”

“Good,” Sharon said, relieved. “So, that’s it?”

“Oh, I invited Thor, too,” Steve said. “He likes Christmas.”

“Is he in Asgard?” Sharon asked.

“Oh, no, Pennsylvania,” Steve said. “I sent him an electronic mail.”

“Why is Thor in Pennsylvania?” Sharon said. “You sent an email?”

“His gal’s doing her science work at a college there, so you can get in touch with him through Dr. Foster. I don’t think Thor knows how to use email yet.”

“No,” Sharon said dubiously. She’d met Thor at one of Tony’s parties once. A Fourth of July barbeque in upstate New York. A drunk Thor with twenty sparklers had made Sharon realize why people had been terrified of Vikings.

“Still, I learned. He’ll learn, too. Didya know these lights come with little boxes now, so you can make ‘em blink in different patterns. Ain’t that something?” Steve said, beaming up at her from where he was kneeling to string lights on the tree.

“It’s very pretty,” Sharon admitted.

 

***

 

Also November 1st

Tallis Observatory

Pennsylvania

 

“Ohhh, Jane, I think I’m dead,” Darcy said from where she was laying across a table in their lab at the observatory.

“How much did you drink at that Halloween kegger?” Jane asked, looking up from her laptop.

“Too much to live,” Darcy said in a moan.

“You’re too old to drink with the Kappa Kappas, Darce,” Jane said.

“You insult me on my deathbed, Jane? I thought you loved me,” Darcy said.

“I love you more than you love your liver, little fool,” Jane said, tapping the keys. Darcy groaned again.

“I must leave you now. Wherever I fall, there shall I be buried,” she announced.

“So, outside of the Daily Grind coffee shop?” Jane said.

“My Mecca,” Darcy said, sighing. “I sent Thor to make a pilgrimage in my stead. He ventures forth in search of pumpkin spice lattes. My last latte.” Jane snorted, then looked more alertly at her computer screen.

“Huh,” she said.

“What is it?” Darcy said, picking her head up curiously.

“Aren’t you dead?” Jane said.

“I’m hanging on while there is hope of a PSL, Jane,” Darcy said.

“Fury’s offered me another job with SHIELD. They have some new tech….” Jane said, sounding excited as she read. Her eyes had gone wide.

“Don’t they also have Nazis?” Darcy said, pronouncing it like Brad Pitt had in that crazy Tarantino movie. She liked saying “Natzis.”

“They took care of that uprising thing, Thor told me. Found all the hidden HYDRA factions before they could launch Project Insight,” Jane said. “Don’t you remember how glued you were to the Alexander Pierce trial?”

“Yeah,” Darcy said. When she closed her eyes, it felt like the lab table spun more slowly. “It was really fun watching Nancy Grace get all mad when they made the Nazis testify. I was a little bummed Captain America testified in his uniform, though. I wanted to see his handsome mug.”

“You wanted to see Steve’s butt,” Jane corrected.

“You could see that in the uniform,” Darcy said. “Be still, my ovaries and God bless America and the inventor of spandex.”

“You’ll meet him at Christmas anyway.”

“What?” Darcy said. They’d never met.

“He’s invited us to a party. You, too,” Jane said. “I just got the email.”

“Oooh, can I have a Captain for Christmas?” Darcy asked.

“Only if you live,” Jane told her. She was looking at Fury’s email again. If he really had a gravitational transformer…..

“If I have to,” Darcy pouted. At that moment, Thor came through the lab doorway with a tray of coffees. He looked solemn.

“My Jane, Darcy, I have unfortunate news. Alas, they are all out of the spices of the pumpkin at the Daily Grind. We must settle for the gingerbread lattes,” he said. “I am deeply sorry.”

“Boooo,” Darcy said. “When are they getting more pumpkin stuff?”

“Jerome tells me they will not get anymore in until Halloween of 2019,” Thor said.

“Ughhhhh, there goes my reason for living. Gingerbread is not as good,” Darcy said. Still, she sat up. Coffee was important.

“I guess that settles it, then,” Jane said. “You’ll have to die.”

“Why?” Thor said, alarmed.

“She’s kidding, Muscles from Space Brussels,” Darcy told him, sipping her coffee. “Ahhhh…straight to my brain box.”

“But in the meantime, I think we’re moving to DC,” Jane said.

“What?” Thor said.

“What?” Darcy said.

“SHIELD has a new piece of equipment. I want it. If I don’t take this job, some other schmuck will get to play with it,” Jane said. “Nobody but me should get the fun toys.” Thor nodded in agreement.

“And their second choice is probably a closet Nazi, anyway,” Darcy said. “We’ve only ever let in aliens, not Nazis.”

“True,” Thor said. “This was quite the problem for my friend the good captain. He lost several of his comrades in arms to evil. Now they are all in prison. On Asgard, we would have had them killed, but Tony of the Starks explained that the food of your prison system is like a slow death….”

“Fury wants me to start next week,” Jane said to Darcy.

“Oh, shit,” Darcy said. “I gotta pack hungover?”

“Yes, also, don’t mention the ‘let in aliens’ bit,” Jane said

 

November 2nd

The Triskelion

 

Darcy and Jane and Thor had arrived in DC the night before via Mew-Mew and were sleeping on the floor--their things were being moved by a SHIELD-approved moving company from PA--when Jane decided they’d go into the office anyway, even though they weren’t due to start until the 12th. “We can’t just sit here,” she said to Darcy,

“It’s not like we’ve got cable or internet,” Darcy agreed. SHIELD probably had wifi. And maybe an in-house coffeeshop or a halfway decent breakroom. She was running low on high-speed data.

“Thor, you ready to go?” Jane said. Thor picked up his head from the sleeping bag in the big bedroom and yawned.

“I must brush my hair,” he said.

“That means it’ll be an hour before I see the good stuff,” Darcy said sadly.

“You have to stop calling coffee the good stuff, people think you mean drugs,” Jane chided.

“Well, I mean, Nora Ephron did call it a ‘legally addictive stimulant’ in _You’ve Got Mail,”_ Darcy pointed out. “Tom Hanks wouldn’t lie.”

 

They were walking through SHIELD’s lobby when Darcy spotted a coffee shop tucked into a corner and let out a squeal. Several people turned. “Go,” Jane said. “Before you set off an alarm. Bring us back some, too.”

“Thank you, I love you, you’re the best boss,” Darcy said running away and nearly bumping several dudes in suits. Jane and Thor proceeded upstairs: Thor waved happily at everyone and let them see Mjolnir, while Jane repeated calculations in her head and tapped the notes app on her phone determinedly.

 

Darcy had ordered a pumpkin spice latte when one of the SHIELD baristas came around to rearrange the pastry case. It happened in horrifyingly slow motion: one minute, James was carrying a tray of croissants, the next minute they were flying through the air as he slipped on a bit of spilled half and half. There was a crash. “Are you okay?” Darcy asked.

“No, I think I broke my ankle,” James said sadly. Several people gathered around and eventually, poor James was dispatched to SHIELD’s health services floor.

“It’s like a doc-in-a-box, but with better stuff,” a suited guy explained to Darcy, when she asked. Unfortunately, that left the coffee shop short-staffed.

“It’s my first day,” the remaining barista said. Her name was Heidi. Heidi had a panicked look in her eyes. The line was currently very long.

“Let me help you clear out this line,” Darcy said. “I did two summers at the CrackPot Coffee of Manassas, VA and I passed my SHIELD clearance yesterday,” she told the other woman, putting on James’s apron. Jane wouldn’t miss her. Jane sometimes forget to eat and shower. It was lucky she didn’t need to remember to breathe.

“You want to help me?” Heidi said. “I don’t think I can pay you.”

“I’ll help out in exchange for a free pumpkin spice latte and one of those headbands?” Darcy bargained. The baristas were wearing fall-themed pumpkin headbands.

“Okay,” Heidi said. “I have a brand new one.” She opened a drawer. There was a stack of them.

“Oooh, can I have one for Thor?” Darcy asked.

“You know Thor?” Heidi said.

“I’m Jane Foster’s assistant,” Darcy said. “Darcy Lewis.” Heidi seemed reassured; she gave Darcy three headbands.

 

They’d mopped up the spill and were working through the line in good time when someone asked Darcy if they had “Mr. Rogers’ coffee” and she looked up into a pair of blue eyes in a smiling face. “Umm, I’m not sure?” she said.

“I’ll ask James,” the man said, without rancor. He had a pleasant smile. He was dressed in khakis and plaid--sorta like a librarian or an accountant--but in a baseball cap with a large B on it. A few strands of blonde hair brushed his forehead. Was that his initial, Darcy wondered?

“James has been injured in the line of duty. Half and half spill,” Darcy explained. “We’re all new. What coffee does Mr. Rogers order?” She was thinking of Fred Rogers and his cardigans. This guy was probably the assistant to a SHIELD bigwig with a weird order. He looked too young to be a high-ranking SHIELD exec.

“Plain coffee, black,” he said quietly. He leaned in closer. “It’s, uh, in a can under the counter. Not that fancy stuff, miss,” he said. “Just regular coffee.” Darcy looked under the counter.

“This one? The Chock Full O’ Nuts coffee?” she asked.

“Yes, ma’am, three tablespoons per cup,” he said.

“I commend your Mr. Rogers for his taste in coffee,” Darcy said. She loved strong coffee. She drank them with lots of Splenda and a good amount of half and half, but she liked a dark roast. “I wonder how it got that name?” she mused out loud, starting a partial pot.

“Really?” the man said, sounding delighted. “I know that, actually. Chock Full O’ Nuts was a restaurant during the Depression. Lunch counters in New York. They had a sandwich that was cream cheese and nuts on raisin bread, it was famous, uh, back then. You could get a sandwich and cup of coffee cheap. Five cents, if I remember right.”

“I’m going to have to try making that sandwich,” Darcy said. “You know, it might make a really nice muffin, too.”

“Huh,” he said, handing her cash for his coffee. “Hadn’t thought of that, but it would be a good idea.” He was smiling at her so nicely, Darcy thought. He seemed on the verge of asking her something when someone behind them spoke.

“Hey,” a male voice said. “They want to talk to you upstairs.”

“I’m ordering coffee, Rumlow,” Darcy’s history buff patron said. The man who had spoken stepped closer, then spotted Darcy and grinned. He had dark hair.

“Hello, sweetheart,” he said. “You’re new….James?” His eyes had drifted down to her chest. His grin widened.

“Uh-huh,” Darcy said.

“That’s your real name, honey?” Rumlow asked. He’d practiced that expression and voice in the mirror, Darcy thought.

“As far as you’re concerned, I’m James, like a celebrity baby,” Darcy said, winking at the blonde guy. He grinned back at her.

“Fine, sweetheart, but you’re missing out here,” Rumlow said, sweeping his arms over his torso. “All this is choice, I’m telling you.” Darcy burst out laughing.

“I think that’s my cue to drag him out of here,” the blonde man said. “I’ll see you, I hope?”

“Not if he’s with you!” Darcy joked as the two men left. The blonde man laughed at that. He had a great laugh.

 

“I should have given him my number,” Darcy told Jane when she went upstairs. She’d explained the coffee shop fiasco and brought Jane a holiday mocha.

“I thought you wanted to meet Captain America?” Jane said.

“Oh, yeah, but this guy was, like, a real guy. Very normal, non-super soldier.  You’d love him, Janey. He wears plaid, too,” Darcy said.

“Look him up in the employee directory,” Jane said.

“I only know his boss’ name,” Darcy said. But she plugged the name Rogers into the system anyway; it would list his boss’s division, after all. She could always walk past that floor a lot. She was surprised when an error warning popped up, telling her that searches on the term were flagged, monitored, and could subject employees to disciplinary review. “What the heck?” Darcy said. “Are all names flagged?” She put in her own. No flag. No flag on Foster, either. Thor was loudly slurping his coffee when she thought about Odinson. It was flagged. “Ooooooh,” she said. “They flag the names of Avengers. Isn’t Captain America’s real name Rogers, too?”

“Aye,” Thor said.

“Well, I’ll never be able to find my mystery assistant now,” Darcy said. “Bummer. Why, oh why, couldn’t he be the assistant to somebody named Entwhistle or Hickenlooper?”

“Was he that cute?” Jane asked curiously.

“Oh, yeah. Also, he likes history, Jane! You know how that’s my jam,” Darcy said. She’d majored in political science after brief flirtations with art history, history, British literature, and psychology. She liked books and old stuff. “I might have just lost my soul mate, Jane.”

“You’ll always have Loki,” Jane joked. Darcy and Loki were pen pals; he was imprisoned on Asgard, but could send letters by magic. They’d decided to get married when Darcy was 45 and he was 423, provided they were both single. “He sent you something, by the way.”

“Aye, he has sent you a Midgardian Yuletide present!” Thor said. “For the warming of our house.” There was a gold-wrapped box on the table that Darcy hadn’t noticed.

“Ohhh, can I open it now?” Darcy asked. Thor nodded happily. She unfolded the corners of the gold paper to reveal a white paper box. When she lifted the lid, she found a small, round object. “Awwww, he sent me a Christmas snowglobe!” she said. Darcy loved Christmas. It was a magical snowglobe, this being a Loki gift. “It’s me,” she said, dazzled. The little Darcy inside--she looked like a claymation figure--ran around a blinking Christmas tree as a continuous snow fell. “How cool is that? Your brother is so sweet.” She patted the snowglobe and beamed at Thor, then Jane. “Isn’t that sweet, Janey?” Darcy said.

“Darce, little you just fell down,” Jane said, trying to hold in a laugh. Darcy turned back: the small version of her was struggling to get up and trying to brush the snow off her butt at the same time.

“Freaking snow!” Little Darcy said in a tinny mutter. She shook her tiny clay fist. Thor chuckled.

“Loki is quite ingenious. It is a strong likeness, my Lightning Sister,” he said. “He merely sent me new self-sharpening knives and Jane some books on the magical sciences of Asgard.”

“Oh, look,” Jane said. Little Darcy had accidentally knocked an ornament off the tree and was trying to re-hang it high in the tree. She hopped fruitlessly. “She’s short like you, too.”

  
  


November 4th

The Triskelion, a DC mall, and Sharon Carter's apartment

 

“You don’t know who she is?” Steve asked hopefully.

“No, Cap, I’m sorry,” the barista said. “James and Heidi were on the schedule and James fell and someone must have helped Heidi, but I don’t know who it was.”

“When will Heidi be back?” Steve asked. Heidi would know, right? The barista looked chagrined.

“I’m really sorry, Cap, but, uh, Heidi quit on her second day. Fury glared at her and she sort of broke down, poor thing,” the barista said.

“Oh,” Steve said. “I appreciate your help. If you see her again, will you tell her I’m looking for her? Specifically by name and everything?”

“Of course, Cap,” the barista said. Everyone liked Cap. His mystery girl was the talk of SHIELD. Nobody had seen her since that day she took over for James. All the reported sightings had turned out to be other brunettes in glasses.

 

***

Darcy was spending the day shopping. Since she and Jane didn’t officially start until the 12th, she had been getting furniture off Craigslist, unpacking at the apartment, and was now searching for odds and ends for the apartment. Plus, extra-large towels for Thor. Jane had gone into the office with Thor while Darcy did all the apartment stuff. She was exiting the Bed, Bath, and Beyond in the mall when her eye was drawn to twinkly lights. For Darcy, twinkle lights were the decorative equivalent of the Krispy Kreme hot donut light. Her cart steered itself into the Christmas store as if by magic. “Are you always here?” she asked as salesperson, as she eyed an Elvis Christmas ornament  that played “Blue Christmas.”

“No, we’re a pop up store,” he said. “Can I help you with anything?” 

“Do you have any pink Christmas trees?” she asked hopefully. She’d mostly had desktop trees, but this year she wanted to go all out. SHIELD was paying her and Jane better than the universities.

“Um, yeah, follow me,” he said. He led her to the back of the store, where there was a row of shiny artificial trees. “That’s it, the only pink one. It’s a little sparse, sort of Charlie Brown-style, you know?” The tree was a medium pink with widely spaced branches. It did look a little like Charlie’s tree. It was small enough to fit in a corner of her room. She would be able to look at it as she fell asleep.

“I love it,” Darcy said. “Is there one in a box?” This would be her reward for meeting the cable guy tomorrow, if they had one.

“Yes, ma’am,” the sales guy said. 

Kismet, Darcy thought. Meant to be.

 

***

“And you can’t find her at all?” Sharon asked that night. She, Steve, Natasha Romanoff, and several of the STRIKE Alpha guys were hanging out at her apartment. Steve’s Christmas decorations had awed them all. Natasha was peering around the room with an ambiguous expression that Sharon assumed was actually shock.

“I’m beginning to think I imagined her,” Steve said. “Maybe I dreamed her up or something?”

“I saw her, Cap, she exists,” Rumlow said, patting his shoulder as he rose for another beer. “We’ll find your Coffee Girl.” That was the nickname STRIKE Alpha had given her.

“What’d Coffee Girl look like again?” Jack Rollins asked. He was Australian; it sounded like ‘gel’ when he said girl, which would’ve made Sharon smile, except Steve was a little down. This was the first person he’d shown interest in since Peggy.

“Long dark brown hair past her shoulders, light eyes, glasses, about five-two, five-three, no distinguishing marks or tattoos visible,” Rumlow supplied crisply.

“That could be anyone,” Natasha said. “Don’t you have anything more detailed or significant?”

“Yeah,” Agent Henderson said, “that’s really non-specific, boss.” The agent next to him, Lopez, nodded. Rumlow rubbed his jaw.

“Well,” he said, looking at Steve, “very full mouth, upper lip fuller than the bottom one and, uh, really nice”-- he cupped his hands over his chest--”these. Very nice these.”

“Rumlow,” Steve said.

“What? I’m trying to be tasteful here, Cap,” Rumlow said. “You know, gentleman-like.”

“Gentleman-like?” Sharon said scoffing. “What would you know about that?” The men on the couch snickered. Rumlow followed Sharon into the kitchen.

“How would you describe, uh, those tastefully, Carter?” he asked, as he removed the cap from his beer.

“Large breasts is the clinical term,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Of course you’d notice that.”

“Hey, it’s not that I like that kind of thing myself,” he said defensively. “They were nice, but, uh, not my type. I’m a classy guy,” he insisted.

“Classy?” Sharon said in disbelief.

“Well, you know, elegant women, that’s my type,” he said. “Like Grace Kelly.”

“Sure,” Sharon said. “Are you implying my surrogate uncle likes trashy women?”

“No, no,” he said. “I mean, she wasn’t trashy, she was wearing glasses.”

“You can’t be trashy in glasses?” Sharon asked, genuinely perplexed by his weird classifications.

“You ever see a Playboy bunny in glasses?” he asked.

“I’ve never seen a Playboy bunny period, Brock,” Sharon said as they left the kitchen. Lopez and Henderson laughed openly.

 

When Rumlow left with the three other STRIKE agents, Rollins looked at him. “She’s real, this sheila?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Rumlow said. “Cap’s not crazy. It’s a mystery why nobody’s seen her.”

“And you’re hopin’ if you find this sheila and Cap decides you’re all right, then Sharon’ll give you the time of day,” Rollins supplied cheerfully.

“You know it,” Lopez said.

“Hey, now, Carter and I have chemistry. I’ve known that since the first minute I met her,” Rumlow said. “In five seconds, we had more chemistry than she ever had with Klein or anybody else she could have gone out with at work.” Sharon had briefly dated Cameron Klein after the aborted HYDRA Uprising.

“Wasn’t that when you stabbed her?” Henderson asked casually.

“She knew I was a loyal agent embedded in HYDRA,” Rumlow said stubbornly.

“Did she now? I heard she had no idea and that she needed stitches afterwards,” Lopez said. “Twenty stitches. Still has a scar and everything.”

 

As they reached the sidewalk, Jack Rollins started to whistle “Waltzing Matilda.” Lopez and Henderson grinned at each other. Jack had learned to troll with casual whistling from Cap.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everybody's hanging tinsel and lights....

November 7th

Archipelago

1201 U St NW, Washington, DC

 

“What’s up with you, Pop Pop?” Sam Wilson asked. Steve had been sighing heavily all night. “Usually, you love this tiki joint?” They were at one of Steve’s favorite DC bars, a tiki-themed place that served everything in coconuts or with little umbrellas or tiki glasses. When he’d come out of the ice, Tony--and then Sam--had appointed themselves his cultural guides. Steve had familiarity with all kinds of things now: how to send an email (very useful), about thirty years’ worth of horror films (not a really fan), _Game of Thrones_ (definite no) and _Scooby Doo, Where are You?_ (his favorite cartoon, although he had a soft spot for _Wreck-It Ralph_ ).

“Yeah, I’m just feeling a little down,” he told Sam. “I thought this place might cheer me up, but it ain’t working as well as it usually does.” Steve had discovered that he loved kitschy places like Archipelago. He couldn’t get drunk; his metabolism burned through alcohol too quickly. But he enjoyed nachos and daiquiris with umbrellas and crazy straws. Sam and he tried new restaurants frequently. There was so much new food now, too. That had been a revelation. When he’d gone into the ice, there was no such thing as delivery pizza and almost no ethnic food, unless you made it at home because your relatives knew how. He’d grown up on his mother’s simple Irish cooking, limited by their lack of money. His mother had always told him that there was nothing like Irish butter and cheese, but even butter had been in short supply during his childhood. He had been too poor for restaurants before and it had been less common to eat dinner out anyway. Steve had lived in a whole different world from those glittering Manhattanites portrayed in 1930s screwball comedies. It had been a special treat for Steve to get a 5-cent sandwich and coffee at a lunch counter before the war. Bucky had taken him to a diner for a birthday or two and they’d pooled their funds for Coney Island, but their primary form of leisure had been cheap movies. It was ironic: movies had been really cheap then and restaurants were expensive. Now people complained on the news about how expensive movie tickets were and went out to eat frequently. The sheer variety of types of food was surprising: there was Chinese and Mexican and Italian on every corner, plus Thai and pan-Asian food, Japanese sushi, Brazilian steakhouses, Korean barbeque, and now people were actually opening Asgardian themed restaurants. Sam had been wanting to try Valhalla on K Street.

“Look, here’s the food,” Sam said, interrupting Steve’s train of thought. The waitress smiled at him and set down the platter of nachos Steve had ordered just for himself. Sam preferred the Dan-Dan noodles and the egg rolls.

“Hey, Cap,” she said. “We made them extra spicy, just like you like.”

“Thanks, Katie,” Steve said. The nachos were really good here.

“We’ll find that girl, Cap,” Sam said, once Katie had departed. “One girl shouldn’t be too hard to find. We found your old pal, remember?”

“Yeah,” Steve said, cheering up slightly. If they’d found Bucky, they could find her.

 

***

 

Darcy was hanging out at the apartment, stringing twinkle lights on every conceivable surface: along the mantle of the fireplace, the tops of the upper kitchen cabinets, around her headboard, everywhere she could think of. She usually did white lights, but since it was so close to Christmas she’d bought some multicolored ones. “What do you think?” she asked Jane, when she and Thor arrived home that night.

“Very fancy Mexican restaurant,” Jane supplied.

“Excellent! Quite cheerful,” Thor said simultaneously.

“Thank you both,” Darcy said. “Also, I’ve ordered lots of decorations and ornaments from the Christmas shop.”

“More? Darce, you need a holiday twelve-step,” Jane said.

“I don’t see you turning down my cookies and holiday booze,” Darcy said.

“Can we make cookies this year?” Thor asked hopefully. He loved making cookies.

“Absolutely,” Darcy told him. “Provided I survive car-buying tomorrow without killing a salesman.” They had thought they would get a SHIELD-issued vehicle, but it turned out they had a vehicle _stipend_. That meant Darcy was in charge of car-buying. Was there anything worse in the world?

 

***

November 8th

Triskelion

 

Steve and Thor were sparring in a ring at the gym, when Sharon came by to tell Steve that she had a package for him. “It looks like more Christmas ornaments,” Sharon said. “Have you been staying up late and shopping online again?”

“Maybe,” Steve said, indicating for some of the STRIKE guys to take over. It was like watching people fight a wall. Thor leaned casually against the ropes and held off a STRIKE guy with one arm. STRIKE guy swung his arms uselessly. Thor chuckled.

“Are you wallowing?” Sharon whispered. She didn’t want to embarrass him, but she was concerned for Steve’s moods. He seemed to swing wildly sometimes: first angry that he’d missed seventy years, secondly, trying to adjust to modern life with patience, and then another wave of anger and determination to help Bucky after the failed Uprising.  Sharon had thought he was doing better, but then she’d heard from Tony this morning that he’d recently said something about “not being the guy who wanted a family and a home anymore” and that concerned her.

“No, no,” Steve said. “I’m not  wallowing, Shar. I just like Christmas.”

“Steve--” Sharon said.

“I genuinely like Christmas,” he said loud enough for people to hear.

“You are fond of the Midgardian Yuletide?” Thor called out.

“He’s got my place decorated already!” Sharon called back. Thor knocked a STRIKE guy flat, then turned to face them.

“This is excellent, my friend. You must meet my Lightning Sister, the assistant and platonic helpmeet to my Jane,” Thor said.

“What?” Steve said.

“Platonic helpmeet?” Brock Rumlow said quietly to Jack Rollins. “What the hell is a helpmeet?”

“No idea,” Jack said.

“My Lightning Sister is excessively fond of the Yuletide celebrations,” Thor said. “I have often thought that you would make an excellent pair. She is the one who tased me upon my return to Midgard, perhaps you remember the tale?”

“Uh, yeah,” Steve said. Thor often did impressions of himself falling like a stone.

“A fierce lady warrior,” Thor said cheerfully. “She is also an excellent baker of the holiday treats and very pretty. I believe you would make a worthy match for her, despite the fact that you cannot lift Mjolnir. She can, of course.”

“She can lift Mjolnir?” Steve said.

“They have formed a deep bond of friendship. She does not wield Mjolnir precisely, but Mjolnir responds to her requests. We discovered it when I accidentally sat Mjolnir upon some of her belongings and she asked Mjolnir to move in jest. Lo and behold, Mjolnir complied. I believe it began when my sister cleaned Mjolnir after a battle. I had been remiss…” Steve shook his head.  

“How am I going to get out of this setup?” he whispered to Sharon.

“Why not go out with her?” Sharon asked.

“Perhaps we could go on a date of the double?” Thor boomed.

“Welll….” Steve said. Just then, SHIELD’s PA system crackled to life.

 

“A page for Thor Odinson! Thor Odinson!” a voice said.

“What on Midgard is that?” Thor asked quizzically.

“It’s the PA system, mate,” Jack said.

“I’m transferring you now,” the voice said. “We’re patching through a phone call for you.”

“Hiiiiiii, Thor,” Darcy’s voice said over the speaker. She sounded tinny and strained to Thor. Not like herself.

“My Lightning Sister! I am in the SHIELD sparring gym with the good captain!” Thor said, pointing to the speaker and winking at Steve.

“Hellllo, Captain America and adjacent very fit people of SHIELD!” Darcy said. Steve looked up at the speaker and grinned sheepishly. Jane Foster’s assistant talked a little like Thor?

“Hi,” everyone said back awkwardly.

“Sorry to interrupt, but Thor doesn’t have a phone and I couldn’t find a raven,” Darcy said.

“Aye,” Thor said. “There is a distinct shortage of good ravens on Midgard.”

“Anyhow, I have been here with the car salesmen in Arlington for two freaking hours. I’m not sure if I’ll need to demand my Miranda rights to get out of this room--”

“They are restraining you?” Thor said, alarmed. He reached for Mjolnir.

“Relax, I’ll tase ‘em and steal a car if things get too dire. This is how they roll, buddy, put down Mew-Mew. It’s part of the game. Remember that siege y’all did on Vana-whatsits before Sif broke their lines and took over that fortress?” Darcy said.

“Mew-Mew?” Steve said to Sharon.

“What’s that? Mjolnir?” Sharon whispered. Steve shrugged.

“Aye,” Thor said to Darcy, “an excellent battle.”

“Buying a car is like that. They’re trying to seige me out, now that their sneaky little buddy-buddy routine has failed. I’m going to give them thirty minutes and then I’ll walk away. You always gotta be willing to walk. But I need to know if you will fit in a Toyota Prius, okay? Do you want to come try sitting in the car? I’ve already vetoed a Toyota Yaris hatchback, which bums me out--as much as I want to drive Jane crazy by recreating the eleven-point turn from _Psych_ on the daily--I think it’s too little for you, big bro,” she said.

“Oh,” Thor said, looking a little crestfallen. “I would not mind a Blueberry.” The Blueberry had been the name of _Psych_ ’s tiny blue car. He and Darcy enjoyed watching it together and teasing Jane about being a total Gus.

“I know, right? So cute!” Darcy said sadly. “Also, I got all the ingredients for your favorite cookies, so we can bake tonight and watch Christmas movies?”

“An excellent plan,” Thor said, smiling.

“Can you and Mew-Mew get here if I give you an address? It’s the 4000 block of Lee Highway,” Darcy said.

“I shall arrive shortly,” Thor said.

“All righty! Byeeeeee, everyone,” Darcy said.

“Bye,” everyone said back.

“My good captain, you should join us tonight for sugar cookies and the Yuletide films,” Thor said. “You would be most welcome!” He clapped his hands jovially. Steve shook his head a little.

 

“Yeah,” Steve said to Sharon, once Thor had disappeared. “How am I supposed go on a date with someone when I only understand every third word they say? Much less a double date with her, Thor, and his gal?”

“To be fair, you say that about everyone, Cap,” Brock Rumlow told him. “She sounded cute to me. I’d think you’d like a girl who tases the big blond and knows how to handle a used car guy. You should drop in for cookies or whatever.”

“Fun-sounding sheila,” Jack said, nodding in agreement.

“I don’t know…” Steve said. He was still holding a candle for his Coffee Girl. He’d been sketching her in her little pumpkin headband at home. She’d smelled like vanilla. Steve was a vanilla guy. Tony had told him that once, snickering. Steve didn’t understand the reference, but Coffee Girl made him think of vanilla sugar cookies.

“Didn’t Aunt Peggy shoot you once?” Sharon said.

“Did she?” Rumlow said, looking delighted.

“She shot at me,” Steve said defensively, as if it was a meaningful difference. “She, uh, thought I wanted to kiss other girls.” Until now, Steve actually hadn’t. But he thought he might have met someone he might want to kiss, one day. He believed in an appropriate getting-to-know-you period of at least two dates. Or one date? Half a date? Coffee Girl had a very nice mouth.

 

***

 

“What do you think? I’m a little worried about an electric car, given how you carry a charge with Mew-Mew,” Darcy said, as Thor climbed into the back of the Prius. All the car salesmen stood around the car, mouths agape. They’d freaked out when Thor landed in the middle of the lot and demanded to know where they were holding his “sister” hostage. It had taken fifteen minutes for them to realize Thor meant the weird single girl with the peppermint purse in office 20B who said “my dude” a lot. One guy had actually fallen down in his haste to get Darcy to Thor.

“Very hospitable, the seat is quite comfortable,” Thor said to her, once he’d settled into the Prius. He wiggled and the car bounced. “But may we not try a Blueberry?” he said hopefully.

“The blueberry?” the nearest salesman said in confusion. Thor wanted fruit? They could get fruit. He wondered if Asgardians paid in gold and how difficult it would be for the bank...

“He means a Yaris,” Darcy explained. “It’s a tv show thing. _Psych?_ It used to be on USA.”

“Are you not familiar with the shenanigans of Shawn of the Spencers and Gus of the Gusters? It is a show most amusing,” Thor said. “I was quite heartbroken when it ended.”

“He was,” Darcy said. “Cried for a week after the series finale and it was a happy finale.”

“They have subsequently done a television film,” Thor said, smiling brightly. “But there was no Blueberry.”

“Well, we can get you in a blueberry today, Mr. Thor. Uh, your highness?” the salesman said.

“Verily?” Thor said, beaming.

“But will he actually fit?” Darcy said. “That’s our primary question.”

 

“I fit! Indeed, I fit,” Thor said, when they’d ushered him to a red Yaris hatchback and he’d settled in the backseat. When he picked up Mjolnir off the pavement and sat her next to him in the seat, the car groaned. “My sister, I do not understand your objections, it is very comfortable.” Darcy eyed him and Mjolnir dubiously.

“Do you have a listed weight limit in the manual?” she asked the salesman who’d been helping them.

“Yeah, but if you don’t know the hammer’s weight--” he began.

“I do,” Darcy said. “We weighed Mew-Mew on a large animal vet’s scale once. She’s heavier than a labrador, but less than a small horse.”

“Oh,” the salesman said, “I’ll get that manual.” Two of his coworkers were watching from a few feet away.

“It’s like this show I saw where they put Shaq in a Mini Cooper. And that was a convertible,” one said quietly to the other.

“My Lightning Sister!” Thor called. “We shall purchase this one!”

“Okay, red Yaris hatchback it is,” Darcy said. She didn’t know how they’d fit Jane’s doohickeys and Thor, but it would be good in DC traffic. She did most of her errand running solo anyway.

“The backseat folds flat,” their salesman said helpfully, showing her some relevant manual pages. Thor was only a smidge under the weight limit.

 

After Darcy had signed all the paperwork--they moved surprisingly fast with Thor present--he plunked a bunch of gold coinage on the table. “I trust this will satisfy for a down payment?”

“Let me count that,” Darcy said. She’d memorized Asgardian money. “You didn’t get it from Loki, did you?”

“Of course not,” Thor said. “I have been wise to his money tricks since I was a child and he traded me for the money I was planning to buy candies with. His most terrible trick.” Darcy nodded.

“I don’t know if the bank will--” the salesman said.

“They will,” Darcy said. “If you call Wells Fargo, they accept Asgardian money from Thor with code 312 Asgard.”

“Oh,” he said, going for a phone.

“What kind of candy?” Darcy asked Thor.

“They are called Valnajirs. Sort of like gummy worms,” Thor said. “Shall I take a photo with you gentlemen? For your wall of publicity?” he offered the surrounding salesmen in a bright voice. People always asked Thor for a photo.

“Uhhhh, yes?” one of the men said, snapping out of his daze.

“They gawk like they have not seen a man in a Blueberry before, it is very disrespectful,” Thor whispered to Darcy. “But my mother would think me rude if I did not offer.”

“You’re a good son,” she said, patting his arm.

“It makes me happy that you think me to be so,” he said, smiling.

 

They were driving back through DC to Triskelion for Darcy to drop Thor off--he’d insisted on riding in the new car--when he asked what they were going to call it. “The Cranberry?” he said. “It is the season for cranberries, is it not?”

“Or the Raspberry, since they already used the Cranberry on tv in that one episode,” Darcy said, turning down her vintage Christmas music. She liked Dean Martin’s holiday album, the one with him sitting in front of a big mid-century white fireplace. Darcy missed those old-school fireplaces. One of her cousins’ houses had one with a brick bench built in and you could actually sit next to the fire. Nothing like the itty-bitty fireplace in their condo, where you had to sit on the floor or drag your chair close to the open flame.

“Shall we have Jane be the decider?” Thor said.

“Yes. Unless Mew-Mew has an opinion?” Darcy asked politely.

“It is unclear,” Thor said, as the hammer did a little hop in the seat. “I shall have to ask again.”

“I wonder if I could put reindeer antlers and a red nose on this car?” Darcy said out loud.

“That sounds festive. A car for revelry. I quite like that,” he said. “Where are such things purchased?”They were at a redlight, so Darcy tapped a few buttons on her phone.

“Looks like this store a mile away has some?” she said.

“May we stop?” Thor asked politely. “I can help you attach them to the Cranberry. Or the Raspberry.”

“Of course, couldn’t do it without you,” Darcy said. Thor was very helpful. Also, tall enough. Which Darcy never was, dagnabbit.

“Then may we get cocoa from the Starbucks?” he said.

“Absolutely, my dude,” Darcy told him, grinning. Watching him drink caramel hot chocolate was a real joy. His hands were so big and the cups were so tiny.

***

“What in the hell?” the man guarding the gate at SHIELD’s parking garage said out loud. A tiny red car bedecked with reindeer antlers and a red nose was cruising towards his gate. Even from ten feet away, he could hear the sounds of Christmas music. He pressed the button to raise the yellow metal barrier and the car pulled through to his window in the guard’s box. It stopped and the back window rolled down. Whoever was inside was singing along to “It’s a Marshmallow World.”

“Good day! We are here to park!” he man in the back said cheerfully. He was half-leaning out the window. There was a damn blonde giant in the back of the tiny car. Wearing a Santa’s hat?

“You’re here to park?” the guard said slowly. The giant in the Santa hat looked oddly...familiar.

“I am Thor!” he announced, beaming.

“Thor? The Thor?” the guard said, blinking.

“Aye,” Thor said. The driver rolled down the front window on that side. It was a brunette woman.

“We have a parking pass,” she said. “Thor Odinson, level A.”

“And hot cocoa!” Thor said cheerfully, slurping from a small cup. “The manager of the Bed Bath and Beyond also gave me a Santa hat at no charge. He was quite generous when he saw all our decorations and the car kit in our cart of shopping.”

“Uh,” the guard said, slightly lost. Thor started to sing along to the Christmas music again. 

“Rum Puuuuuuum!” he bellowed.

“Sorry,” the driver told the guard, “that’s his fifth hot chocolate. He gets a little giddy during the drums part.”

“Uh, yeah. Just that way,” the guard said, hitting the button to raise the second barrier arm and pointing towards their level.

“Thank you!” the driver said. As they pulled away, Thor leaned out the window and looked back at him.

“A happy Christmas to you, my friend!” he yelled. Then he began to sing again. That’s when the guard realized the whole back window of the Yaris was stacked with tinsel, ornaments, and what might possibly be a small artificial tree. It was Grinch green.

“How did she see to drive with all that and Thor in the back?” he said out loud.

 

They hauled their decorations up the service elevator. “I think perhaps the Raspberry would fit in this elevator,” Thor said, his arms full of Christmas tree.

“I don’t think Fury would approve,” Darcy said, carrying several boxes of lights and ornaments. They were going to decorate Jane’s lab. Whether Jane liked it or not.

“Oh, no,” Jane said, as they opened the doorway. “Not more decorations!”

“Don’t be like that,” Darcy said.

“Darcy has made me a headband of tinsel!” Thor said cheerfully.

“It’s really more like a bandanna. What has little me been doing?” Darcy asked.

“She has apparently been gifted by Loki with an endlessly replenishing tray of cookies and a little tv. I think she is watching daytime soaps,” Jane said. She’d left the snowglobe in the lab to keep Jane company. Darcy leaned down and looked at Little Darcy. Little Darcy waved back.

“Wanna see what I got?” Darcy asked.

“Yes!” Little Darcy said in her tiny voice, flashing a double thumbs up.

She was especially excited when Big Darcy showed her all the ornaments. Her glasses fell off and it took the better part of ten minutes for Little Darcy to find them again in the glittery snow.

“Oh, we bought a car. A Yaris,” Darcy said, as she put up the artificial tree and strung it with tinsel.

“It is quite festive and comfortable, the man at the gate was most impressed,” Thor said, passing her a box of ornaments.

“Was he?” Jane said, looking over at Darcy. Darcy winked. “What else did you buy, besides a car and Christmas stuff?”

“Snacks for Thor--” Darcy said.

“They had Pirate’s Booty,” he explained seriously.

“--it was at the register. And, oh, a bottle of Coty Vanilla Musk for me. It can be your Christmas present to me, I’m almost out,” Darcy told Jane. “It’ll save you time.” Coty Vanilla Musk was her favorite perfume. She’d discovered it in Puente Antiguo, when the closest thing they had to Sephora was CVS.

“You start doing that weeks before Christmas and I buy you something anyway, I think it’s just an excuse to shop,” Jane said.

“Phhhft, funsucker,” Darcy said. “We’re doing cookies tonight, by the way.”

“Christmas tinsel in my lab and you and Thor throwing flour at each other at home,” Jane said, shaking her head.

“We were staging a mock battle,” Thor said. “It was a serious reenactment.” He paused and kissed Jane lightly. “I shall return,” he said cheerfully.

“I wonder where he was going?” Darcy said out loud. Thor was still wearing his tinsel headband.

“He looked entirely too happy, it reminded me of Loki,” Jane said.

“Isn’t it funny how they do that?” Darcy said. “The whole mischievous twinkly eyes thing? It’s their only shared feature, really.”

 

***

 

“My good brother, you must come and meet Darcy tonight,” Thor said seriously. He’d gone downstairs to find Steve, fueled by hot chocolate and the Christmas spirit. Steve was sitting at his desk at SHIELD, filing reports.

He was handling a little more mission work now that Natasha Romanoff has taken a little furlough to see if she could find any relatives in Russia. Thor was almost as bad as Nat, Steve thought.

“You do realize you’re wearing tinsel, right?” Steve said, shaking his head. “I thought you weren’t supposed to wear tinsel indoors after Labor Day?”

“Yes, Darcy made it for me. Or she cut some from the lab Christmas decorations, but it is much the same,” Thor said. He smiled cheerfully at Steve. He’d sat in a rolling chair and crossed one broad leg over the other.

“I appreciate the offer, but I have plans tonight,” Steve said. “More work to do and then, uh, a late dinner with an old friend.” Dinner would actually be a large quantity of takeout, eaten alone on his couch to the sounds of Glenn Miller, but Thor didn’t know that.

“All right, but I am determined--” Thor began.

“Gee, you don’t say,” Steve said slyly.

“You shall meet before Christmas, I declare it!” Thor said, pointing a finger at Steve.

“Or what, you’re going to smite me now?” Steve said, grinning.

“There will be no smiting, but I am not above a Viking raid, my friend,” Thor said. He looked serious.

“You going to snatch me out of my apartment for a double date?” Steve said, chuckling. “You know kidnapping’s a crime, right?”

“When you meet her, you will see the error of your ways,” Thor said, standing up. “I am off to resume my holiday revelry. Enjoy yourself and your….paperwork, my friend.” He made to leave the room.

“Thor,” Steve said. “Wait a sec. I’m sure your sister, she’s a lovely gal, but I’ve, uh, I’ve met somebody and I think--”

“She is the one?” Thor said, smiling slowly.

“I don’t actually know her much yet,” Steve said sheepishly, “but, uh--”

“I understand, my friend. It was like this for me and my Jane. From the moment I laid eyes on her as I lay tased in the dirt and she attempted to revive me, I knew there could be no other woman. Every day, she grows in my estimation. Her intelligence, her beauty, her grace, the way she slaps my brother, all these things, they are dear to me.”

“Uh-huh,” Steve said.

“For two long years, we were kept apart by my duties on Asgard and the reconstruction of the bridge, but I could not forget her. Even when my father called her a goat, I would not give her up,” Thor said.

“A what now?” Steve said.

“My father is not quite as evolved as he should be in matters of Midgardian diplomacy,” Thor said. “He tries to be a good king, but, uh--Heimdall do not tell him--but he has flaws.”

“Flaws?” Steve said.

“Big flaws,” Thor said, glancing at the ceiling. He put a finger to his lips and shook his head.

“Okay,” Steve said.

“Have I told you that I believe my Jane may win a Nobel Prize? There is no worthier woman,” Thor said cheerfully. He continued reciting Jane’s virtues to Steve for several minutes before he finally left. Steve had no idea that Jane Foster had given a piece of her mind to quite so many people: Phil Coulson, Odin, various science professors who’d doubted her, Fury, some sort of Elves….really, the list was extensive.

 

Steve returned to working on his reports. Several further hours had gone by before he realized how late it was. He sighed, clicked okay on the last report, and picked up his blue jacket. He’d left something in the pocket. It was one of his sketches of Coffee Girl. He smiled at the image and returned it to the pocket. He’d figure out where she was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continuing my tradition of giving Darcy a Betsey Johnson handbag in Christmas-adjacent fics, she's walking around the dealership with this one: https://www.betseyjohnson.com/product/KITSCH-PEPPERMINT-POP-CROSSBODY/254191.uts?selectedColor=RED
> 
> Archipelago is a real DC restaurant (Loki & Darcy visit in "File Fixation"), but this time it's Steve's place: https://goo.gl/maps/48zrW4JTR9S2
> 
> If you're looking for a good vintage holiday music mix, may I recommend: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rQIyNztl6fg


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peppermint milkshakes sound pretty festive right now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing! Thanks for all your comments and kudos.

November 10th

 

“Good morning, my babies,” Darcy said to a sleepy Thor and Jane as they stumbled out into the kitchen. “Extra fluffy Eggos or strawberry Pop Tarts?” she asked.

“Eggo,” Jane murmured.

“Pop Tarts!” Thor said

“Coffee’s a-brewing,” Darcy said. “What are your plans today?”

“Napping,” Jane said. She’d been Science! Bendering for a couple of days.

“I shall go to the park. The good captain and his comrade have invited Mjolnir and I to play Ultimate Shield,” Thor said. “Is it like a game of the frisbee, but louder.”

“You’re gonna love it,” Darcy said. Thor nodded happily and poured coffee into his extra large mug. “I’m taking the Boysenberry to run errands.” They’d cycled through several berries: Strawberry, Cranberry, Tayberry, even Açai Berry. Darcy had pointed that the last was too purple to qualify as a suitable name.

“I think you should call it the Skittle,” Jane said.

“Skittles are superior to fruit,” Thor said thoughtfully.

“Everybody, get in the Skittle!” Darcy yelled, as if it was an emergency. She tilted her head. “Yeah, I think that would work.”

“Aye,” Thor said.

“But that opens up other possibilities, like the Fruit Loop,” Darcy said.

“I do like Fruit Loops,” Jane said.

“Everyone, get in the Fruit Loooooooop!” Darcy yelled.

“I think it is the Skittle,” Thor said.

 

***

Ultimate Shield was a rowdy game. The other park goers were giving them a wide berth. Women pushing strollers hurried by so quickly that Steve finally started halting the game as soon as he saw their bright colors or heard the gurgles of babies. They were clear at the moment. “On your left!” Steve called as he tossed his shield and Sam--in his Falcon wings--leap in the air to catch it.

“That was my right, Cap!” Sam yelled, as the shield clanged against his wing and he fell back onto the ground. “Oooh,” Sam said, shaking his head.

“What’s wrong, can’t keep up?” Steve called, as Sam rose slowly, still clutching the star-decked circle of vibranium.

“I got grass stains on my pants!” Sam complained. “How does brown, dead grass leave a stain?”

“Oh, your poor dear,” Steve said. “How will you live?”

“They’re new pants,” Sam said. He tossed the shield at Steve with as much muscle as he could manage and Steve caught it easily.

“He is showing off, my friend the Falcon. Let Mjolnir have a crack at it,” Thor said, grinning.

“Don’t you put a dent in my shield now,” Steve said, hesitating in his throw. “It’s vintage.”

“Oh, yeah, it’s vintage. That’s just fancy for old,” Sam groused. Thor laughed.

“That shield is a mere baby. Mjolnir is thousands of years old, forged in the heart of a dying star by the dwarves of Nidarvellir, makers of the most terrifying weapons in all the realms….”

“Is he for real?” Sam asked Steve. Steve shrugged, lowering his shield a fraction as Thor continued.

“Mjolnir is made of uru,” Thor said.

“Ur-who?” Sam said. “Is this like some _Lord of the Rings_ mess? Did some guys with hairy toes make your hammer?”

“Hey,” Steve said brightly, “I understood that. Tony made me watch those. New Zealand looks real pretty.”

“Uru is a metal most treasured, my friends. There is nothing so strong as a dwarven-crafted  weapon made of uru. Even your vibranium, my good captain, is weak--” Thor said.

“I hear you talking, but I don’t see you catching, pal,” Steve said, readying his shield.

“He does talk a lot,” Sam said.

“Mom at three,” Steve called and Sam glanced over his shoulder and waved. The child holding his mother’s hand waved back, then stopped, awestruck. “Thorrrrrrrrrrrr!” he yelled, breaking free of her grasp and running towards the Asgardian.

“Hello, little Midgardian,” Thor said, kneeling down and putting his hands on his bent knees.

“You’re tall,” the boy said. “And brave.”

“I am!” Thor said cheerfully. “Would you like a photograph?” he asked the child’s mother politely, rising to his full height again.

“Oooh, we’d love that,” she said, blushing.

“The three of us then!” Thor said, putting his arms around both of them.

“Ohhhh, you’re very...sweaty,” the mom said, looking at Thor’s bicep.

“Aye,” Thor said, winking.

 

“I know he wears those sleeveless shirts on purpose. It’s November, man,” Sam said. “Why does everybody like Thor more than us?” he asked Steve.

“No idea,” Steve said, grinning wryly and pulling his baseball cap a little closer to better obscure his face. He didn’t mind the lack of attention. Thor smiled obligingly for several photos, including one where he held the mother up like they were in _Dirty Dancing._ Steve understood that reference, too.

“Look at that,” Sam said, shaking his head. "Flirting on the field."

“It’s nice for them, though,” Steve said. The mother looked dazzled. “He doesn’t mean it seriously. He loves his girl. But, uh, don’t ask him about Jane--”

“Why not?” Sam asked.

“Talked my ear off for thirty minutes when he got here about her vast intelligence and overwhelming beauty, we’d never get the game back on,” Steve said, smiling.

“Gentlemen, are we ready to return to battle?” Thor said when he came back over. “I am sorry that my popularity leaves you out in the cold.”

“Sure, sure,” Sam said. “I’ve got skills,” he muttered, resuming his Ultimate Shield stance. Twenty minutes and several painful hits later, Sam was flat on his back.

“I think we should call it a day,” Steve said, leaning on his knees and breathing a little roughly. Thor was the only person who could make him winded.

“Excellent! Now we feast!” Thor said.

“Where we going?” Sam asked, not lifting his head. “Tiki bar?”

“I would like to try an establishment called the Red Robin,” Thor said.

“We got one of those?” Steve called to Sam.

“Yeah, but we’re taking my truck! I puked last time we ate and then took the hammer,” Sam said.

“Do you need my help, friend?” Thor said quizzically. Sam had not risen.

“I’m getting up, just give me a minute,” Sam said.

“It’s been about five,” Steve said.

“Shut up, Grandpa,” Sam told him.

 

“What’s good here?” Steve asked, once they were at the restaurant. There were posters everywhere and deep booths.

“I hear they have the superior milkshake, my friend,” Thor said.

“From who?” Sam asked.

“It was a mention of significance on an episode of my favorite television show. Alas, it has ended,” Thor said sadly.

“Okay,” Sam said. “Milkshakes.”

“I will ask my Lightning Sister, provided I may borrow your phone?” Thor asked politely. Sam dialed for him. “Thank you,” Thor said.

“You’re welcome,” Sam said.

“Darcy!” Thor boomed. “We are at the Red Robin! I am in need of your assistance in ordering!” Multiple tables turned to stare at them. People started taking photos.

“Is he always this loud?” Sam asked Steve.

“I think it’s why they won’t actually let him have a phone,” Steve joked.

“My Lightning Sister recommends the burgers and something called the clucks and fries,” Thor said seriously. “I think I shall try both, what say you?”

“Not bad, not bad,” Steve said, studying the menu. He ordered both meals and a peppermint milkshake. Monster-sized.

“Peppermint, huh?” Sam said.

“It’s festive,” Steve said.

“Can you drive?” Sam said to Steve.

“Sure, yeah,” Steve said.

”Great. I want a damn beer,” Sam said, rubbing his lower back. “They have Blue Moon.”

“While I agree with the good captain that peppermint is festive, I think I shall have the Oreo,” Thor told a stunned-looking waitress.  “I am fond of them with meat. The little cookies, do you know them?”

“Uh, yeah,” she said. “Everybody does.” She must not recognize Thor, Steve thought.

“He’s from out of town,” Steve said.

“Way out,” Sam said.

 

***

Darcy had just left the Trader Joe’s when she called Jane on speaker. “I’m hitting Williams Sonoma for that peppermint bark that Thor and I like, but then I’ll be home, okay?” she said.

“Isn’t that expensive?” Jane said.

“You don’t actually look at our bank balance that much, do you?” Darcy said. She did all the bills and stuff. Midgardian money still vexed Thor and Jane was too absent-minded for auto-pay. “You have a 401k now, Jane, we can afford to splurge on one trip to the Williams Sonoma per year. It’s chocolate, not Le Creuset.”

“Okay,” Jane said. “Why do people even buy Le Creuset, anyway?”

“I don’t know. The colors are pretty, but it’s so heavy. Even before you put food in it,” Darcy said. “We should ask Pepper. I feel like she grew up with that.”

“Absolutely,” Jane said. “She totally grew up with Le Creuset.”

“I feel like her mother probably painted at least one room in the house hunter green, too,” Darcy said. “Don’t you?”

“Especially if it was a brick house,” Jane said in agreement. “She probably did those tasteful little colonial-look candle lights in each window at Christmas.”

“And had a subscription to Martha Stewart,” Darcy supplied.

“Definitely,” Jane said. “Oooh, shit.”

“What’s wrong?” Darcy said, hearing Jane’s alarm.

“I, uh, can’t boil water with you? I was trying to make mac ‘n cheese,” Jane admitted. “The water boiled over.”

“Turn to the medium setting, Jane. I’ll be home soon, don’t burn the place down or something,” Darcy said, laughing.

“Don’t laugh! You know kitchens hate me,” Jane said.

“You have a PhD., an actual PhD.,” Darcy teased.

“I’m hanging up now,” Jane said.

“Watch the stove!” she called. Darcy was singing along to her Chris Isaak Christmas album at the next intersection and totally missed the man waving at her from the sidewalk.

 

***

Brock Rumlow was taking his dog for a walk when he spotted a familiar face stopped at a red light some twenty feet away, across a DC intersection. It was Coffee Girl in the tiniest car he’d ever seen. It had reindeer antlers on it. “Hey! Hey!” he yelled, waving at her. “Coffeee Girl!” She was shimmying to her music and didn’t hear him. He looked down at his dog. “Shit, she can’t hear us,” he said. He tried waving again, then waited, alert, to get the car’s license plate when she passed through the traffic, still happily bopping. “Dammit, it’s a dealer tag,” he said out loud. His words caught the attention of a passing holiday shopper, who looked at him in alarm, then spotted the dog at his feet.

“Awwwwww, what a cute chihuahua!” she said. The dog wagged it’s tail and blinked.

“Thank you,” Brock said, smiling proudly. “He’s twelve.”

“He looks like a puppy!” the woman said, waving.

“See how everybody likes you?” he said to the dog. “Doesn’t everybody like you? They all think you’re a puppy. Yes, they do,” he said, reaching down and scooping the dog up to carry it to Sharon Carter’s. Carter would be able to get the tech guys to do some city surveillance for him, he thought, making a mental note of the intersection and time.

 

The was a rapping knock on Sharon’s door. She recognized it. “Go away, Rumlow,” she groused. She was eating ice cream in her pajamas with a heating pad in her lap. PMS was a beeyotch.

“Carter, I need your help. Open the door!” Brock said. “I saw Coffee Girl!”

“What?” Sharon said, getting up. She opened the door, still holding her spoon and carton.

“I saw her, she was driving a fucking shoe down U St. near the Trader Joe’s,” Brock said. “With reindeer antlers.”

“What?” Sharon said.

“A little red Toyota car with Christmas crap on it,” Brock said. ”And dealer tags.”

“What is that?” Sharon said, pointing to the chihuahua blinking in Brock’s arms.

“This is my dog,” he said. “I was walking him.”

“You have a dog?” she said. “A long haired chihuahua?”

“Yeah. Can we come in? I need your help wooing the nerds to find Coffee Girl’s car on the street cameras, if we‘ve got some,” he said.

“You’re allowed to have a dog?” she repeated, as they came inside.

“Why would I not have a dog?” he said. He was a dog person.

“I thought HYDRA made you--” she began tentatively.

“Shhh,” Brock said, automatically covering his dogs’ ears. “You’ll upset Massimo.”

“Your chihuahua is named Massimo?” she said. Didn’t that mean big or something?

“Yeah. Nobody really did that, okay”--he stressed the word--”anyway, except maybe one or two real loonies, Carter. Everybody else just gave the dumbfuck HYDRA admins their dog’s collar and then hid the dog or had a friend adopt it. Jesus, what kind of man do you think I am?” he said.

“Sorry,” Sharon said, momentarily chagrined.

“I mean, that was a dumb fucking loyalty test. It’s not like they even asked for a used collar most of the time and even Hitler liked dogs,” he said, sitting down with the dog still in his arms.

“So, you’ve kept him all this time?” Sharon said. The tiny dog was stretching up to kiss his chin and Brock was smiling down at him.

“Oh, yeah. My neighbors, Gary and Rick, watch him when I’m gone. They love you! They love you!” Brock said, shifting his attention to the dog, who wagged its tail. Sharon suppressed a laugh.

“Yeah,” Sharon said, getting her phone to call Cameron Klein. “You can put him down if you want, it’s okay.” Brock lowered the little dog to the floor and he ran around the apartment happily. His collar tags jingled. “He’s cute,” Sharon admitted.

“Uh-huh. He’s my little guy. But don’t let him trick you, Sharon. He cannot have people food. No fat. None. It could kill him to have cheese or ice cream or anything else. He’s twelve and he has pancreatitis. He eats special food and special treats and that’s it,” Brock said firmly.

“Okay,” Sharon said, nodding. Brock looked serious.

“He will make sad eyes and beg, but no matter what he tells you---Massimo, no, no, not the tree,” Brock said in a sweetly mortified voice, sounding for all the world like a mother who adored her child too much to really yell at it. Massimo was peeing on Steve’s Christmas tree. “I knew I should have brought your potty pads,” he said sadly. “Carter, I am so sorry. I’ll clean this up and change your tree water...”  He was already getting paper towels and shaking his head at the dog, who sniffed Sharon’s stuff and paid him no mind.

 

Sharon laughed so hard she cried and Cameron Klein thought she was really upset when he answered the phone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter music hint! Chris Isaak's Christmas: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O0YHYcnDm_M
> 
> ETA: The Yaris shoe thing is a IRL PumpkinDoodles anecdote. I picked my mom up from the airport in a Yaris once; she'd run into a family friend while she was waiting and when he saw me pulling up--bopping along to Britney Spears--he said, "she's driving a shoe!"


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Christmas Shoe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing! Thanks for all your comments and kudos.

“We have to take my car,” Brock said, once Sharon had a location for Coffee Girl’s last visual and they were descending the stairs at Sharon’s complex. Brock was holding his dog.

“What? I can’t drive because I’m a girl?” Sharon said archly.

“No, you can drive if you want. My car has Massimo’s car seat. We’d need to switch it and that takes time,” he explained.

“Your dog has a car seat?” she said, stunned. “They make those?”

“Yeah,” he said. “For safety. Do you know how many dogs get lost because they’re loose in the car during car accidents and they get thrown out and run away? And at his size, he’d never survive being thrown around.”

 

They reached his SHIELD SUV. In the center of the backseat, there was a elevated microfiber dog car seat. “Huh,” Sharon said. “It looks just like a tall dog bed, but it buckles in?”

“It has a tether strap to clip in his harness, too,” Brock said, moving aside the blanket in the bed to find it and buckle in Massimo. The dog was wiggling. There were several toys and a dog chewy in the car seat. Next to it was something Sharon realized was a tiny blue dog coat. It was puffy, like a parka. She repressed another giggle.

“So, you could buckle his collar there?” Sharon asked. Brock looked at her and shook his head like she was crazy

“No,” he said. “You should never let anyone do that. In an accident, a collar could break his little neck, Sharon. Harnesses are much safer and they keep dogs from having trachea problems from the neck pressure,” he said. “That’s why I don’t walk him with a collar, too.”

“Oh,” Sharon said. “Why is he doing that?” Massimo was standing on the edge of the dog bed-slash-car seat, not in it. He strained against the tether.

“He hates it,” Brock said, sighing. “He misses looking out the window. That’s why I got the elevated car seat. I thought he might like this one.” They got into the front seat. Brock let Sharon drive. She looked at him, then the dog in the backseat. Massimo was digging in his blankets.  His dog tags jingled. All Sharon could see was Massimo’s tail sticking up.

“Do you have any kids?” Sharon asked Brock.

“No,” he said. “Why?”

“I was imagining you bubble wrapping your children before you took them to school,” Sharon told him. “And hovering a lot.”

“Are you saying I’m overprotective?” Brock said.

“Yes,” Sharon said slowly.

“I’m just cautious and prepared,” he insisted. “I’ll put the coordinates in your GPS, just focus on driving.”

“Thank you,” Sharon said. They drove for a few minutes.

“Can you imagine how stressful it would be to have kids? There’s so much stuff to be worried about,” Brock said abruptly.

“What do you mean?” Sharon asked.

“Look at the teachers now, Carter. There was a news story about a twenty-seven year old English teacher who slept with her sixteen year old student today. A woman! It used to be all you had to worry about was that one creepy band teacher or something. Now it’s all of them. And, I mean, terrorism, lack of healthcare, college costs….” Brock said. Sharon giggled. “What?” he said.

“How do you jump out of planes with that attitude?” she asked.

“I do it so other people are safe,” he said, as if that should be obvious. Sharon’s GPS beeped.

“You have reached your destination,” the unit said in a smooth voice.

“There it is,” Brock said, pointing. The car was parked inside a lot for an apartment complex.

“Wow, you’re right,” Sharon said, “it’s a shoe with Rudolph’s nose.”

“I wouldn’t lie, Carter,” he said.

“What do you want to do?” she asked him.

“Wait, see if she comes out?” Brock said.

“What about Massimo?” Sharon said.

“I brought some of his GI food. There’s a ziploc bag in the drawer under his car seat. Massimo gets low blood sugar. I always carry food for him,” he explained.

 

A few minutes later, Sharon started to laugh. “What?” Brock asked.

“I’m staking out a Christmas-decorated shoe for Stevie with you and your little dog,” Sharon said, shaking with laughter. “It’s just hilarious.”

“I’m offended that you think my dog is mockable. Everyone loves Massimo,” he insisted.

“Wait, you’re not mad about yourself, you’re mad about Massimo?” she said.

“Hellloooo, of course,” he said. “And we’re doing this for Steve, remember? This might be the old soldier’s last chance at happiness or whatever.”

“I wouldn’t be that melodramatic,” Sharon said.

“Now you’re saying I’m melodramatic?” Brock said.

“No, I mean I think Steve _could_ be happy, he just has these blocks. I think he, well, he always saw himself marrying Peggy, almost from the moment they met and for him, that’s still recent,” Sharon said.

“It’s hard,” Brock said, sighing.

“Why are you single?” she asked him.

“What makes you think I’m single?” he said.

“Your neighbors watch Massimo,” she pointed out. “If you were in a serious relationship, she or he--”

“She, but thank you for being so sensitive, Carter,” Brock said.

“She would watch Massimo,” Sharon said.

“Oh, yeah. That’s true. I trust my neighbors more than anyone I’ve dated recently. They’re responsible. I couldn’t leave him with just anybody, not with his medical conditions,” Brock said.

“Uh-huh,” Sharon said. “I am a trained agent and a Carter.”

“I haven’t dated seriously with all the HYDRA work. I was just busy. Why are you single, though?” he asked, as if he was seriously perplexed.

“Why do you say it like that?” Sharon said.

“Like what?” he said.

“Like it’s so shocking for me to be a single woman?” she said, raising an eyebrow,

“I didn’t mean it like that, I just meant--you know, you’re very beautiful and everything--” he said.

“Oh, I’m too beautiful to be single?” she said, grinning. He looked at her.

“Yes,” he said seriously. Then he leaned forward and brushed her long bangs gently away from her face. "Much too beautiful." Sharon looked at him and inhaled slightly. She'd never noticed the little flecks of green in his eyes before.

 

They were kissing in the SUV when something caught Sharon’s eye. “It’s her, it’s her,” Sharon said, breaking the kiss and yanking her hands out from under his shirt. The Christmas Shoe--Sharon’s mental name for the car--had just driven past where they were parked.

“Huh?” Brock said. “Oh. Shit. Shit.” The little red car was pulling out of the parking lot. Sharon cranked the SUV and followed. “I am so sorry,” Brock said, rubbing his face. He felt embarrassed. He hadn’t meant to kiss her, he’d just felt the impulse.

“Really?” Sharon said. “I’m not.”

“Really?” he said, his voice shifting from surprise to delight.

“I’ve always wondered what it would be like to kiss you,” she told him. He had incredible abs. She hadn’t anticipated that.

“Thanks. Could I take you to dinner sometime?” he asked, grinning.

“Absolutely,” Sharon said, changing lanes to catch the Christmas Shoe. “How’s Massimo?” she asked.

“Great,” Brock said. “He’s asleep. He always goes to sleep in the car after he gets tired of trying to climb out of his car seat.”

“Awwww,” Sharon said, checking in the rearview mirror at a stoplight. Massimo was curled up in a ball.

“I can cook,” Brock said abruptly.

“You don’t need to try so hard,” Sharon said, grinning.

“I don’t?” he said.

“I’ve felt your abs, I’m impressed enough,” she said.

“Oh,” he said. Then he grinned. “You like my abs?”

 

Up ahead, the Christmas Shoe pulled into a big shopping center. Sharon was caught by the red light. “Damn,” she said.

“We’ll find her. She’s got to park somewhere in there,” Brock said, sounding all efficient and STRIKE-ish.

“Thank you, Commander,” Sharon said teasingly. He looked at her.

“God, it’s so hot when you say that,” he said, leaning forward to kiss her again. They were still making out when the light turned green. A car behind them honked.

  


They were circling the shopping center when Brock spotted the car pulling away from the front of the movie theater and going over a speed bump. “Over there,” he said. Sharon turned right. They followed the Christmas Shoe back out of the shopping center.

“What are they doing?” she asked.

“Looking at Christmas windows?” Brock suggested. “The lights are pretty and everything.”

“Who does that?” Sharon said.

“Massimo likes to,” Brock said defensively.

“Oh my God, you’re secretly adorable,” Sharon said. “You bought that car seat to drive your dog around and look at Christmas lights?”

“Maybe,” Brock said.

 

The Christmas Shoe went to another shopping center and pulled in front of a wings place. A small brunette emerged from the driver’s seat. “She’s going to that World of Wings,” Brock said excitedly. “Wait, that’s not Coffee Girl.” His voice sank.

“That’s not her?” Sharon said.

“No--wait, is that?” Brock said. Someone else had clamoured out of the passenger seat and was stretching their long limbs. Sharon stopped the SUV, rolled the window down, and leaned out.

“Thor!” she yelled.

“Greetings! Is that you, Sharon of the Carters?” he boomed.

“Brock’s with me!” Sharon said and Brock leaned forward around Sharon and waved.

“Hey, pal,” he said. “Is that your car?”

“Aye, we are calling it The Skittle! Have you met my Jane? Jane come and meet the good captain’s niece and Brock of the Rumlows,” he said.

 

Jane jogged over. “Hello,” she said. From inside the car, Massimo started to bark. “Oooh, what a cute little dog! Darcy will be so sad that she missed it. She _loves_ dogs.”

“Darcy?” Brock said.

“My Lightning Sister!” Thor said.

“We just dropped her off at the movies. Can I pet him?” Jane asked.

“Sure,” Sharon said, unlocking the car, so Jane could open the back door to reach Massimo. She looked at Brock. “He won’t bite, right?”

“No,” Brock said defensively. “Well, not hard. Sometimes, when I cut his toenails….” he said to Jane. “But he’s never bit anyone but me.” Massimo wagged his tail at Jane and she petted him. “See? He’s fine,” Brock told Sharon.

“You’re crazy,” Sharon said, rubbing his face. Thor grinned at them. He liked romance. He was romantic. “Oh, wait,” Sharon said abruptly, recollecting herself. “Do you have a photo of your assistant? We think she might be Steve’s dream girl from the coffee shop.”

“Oh, that makes sense,” Jane said, as if that was the most normal thing. Which it did: Darcy met a lot of people in coffee shops. “I’ll get my phone,” she said, climbing into the backseat. Thor got in on the other side.

“I saw her driving The Skittle today,” Brock explained.

“Aye,” Thor said. “She ran the errands while I played Ultimate Shield and feasted with the captain today. Then my Jane burned her macaroni, so we decided to venture forth for wings while my Lightning Sister attended a holiday film of the ballet of the Nutcracker.” He patted Massimo delicately with his large hand.

“You didn’t want to go with her?” Sharon asked, as Jane passed up her phone.

“God, no, I had a really bad experience with ballet. I quit and swore I’d never see a ballet again,” Jane said, shuddering.

“Is this her?” Sharon said to Brock. “He was with Steve,” she explained. Brock grinned slowly.

“That’s Coffee Girl,” he said.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Obligatory Christmas Stakeout Music: 
> 
> Ingrid Lucia's "Zat you, Santa Claus?": https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=--kpsllLBUU
> 
> Fats Domino's "Please Come Home for Christmas" :https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4X_mLqEc--U


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Nutcracker

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing! Thanks for your comments and kudos!

In the darkened movie theater, Darcy was watching previews before _The Nutcracker Ballet._ She loved that ballet. Her favorite band, even performed bits of the music sometimes. She didn’t understand Jane’s aversion to ballet at all. It was so beautiful. Even better with popcorn and Milk Duds. She was settling in when a tall guy took the seat in front of her. _Great,_ she thought, _what is he, like, six-four? Six-five? Of course, the only tree would pick the seat directly in front of mine. I’ll move._

She got up, gathering all her clutter, crawled across several people, and decided to sit along the left side of the aisle. “Coffee Girl?” a voice said. “Excuse me, miss?” Darcy looked. The human tree was her coffee shop guy.

“Mr. Plaid?” she said jokingly.

“Hi,” he said, beaming. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

“Really?” she said.

“Would you, uh, like to sit with me?” he asked. She would, so she did.

“Darcy Lewis,” she said, plopping down her coat, her bag, her scarf, her Milk Duds, the popcorn, and her Diet Coke. He held the food for her very politely.

“Oh, Thor and Jane’s friend? That’s wonderful. I’m Steve Rogers,” he whispered.

“What?!” Darcy yelled.

“Shhhhhh,” someone behind them hissed.

“Wow,” Darcy whispered. “No wonder you’re embargoed in the employee directory.”

“Sorry,” he whispered. The ballet began.

“I love this ballet,” she told him.

“Me, too. Love everything about Christmas,” he whispered. Lit by the screen, he smiled happily.

 

It was the middle of the battle between the Rat King and the Nutcracker when there was a disturbance at the entrance of the theater. A group of three had entered, trailed by an usher. “Sir, please--” the usher was saying. It was difficult to see their faces, shadowed by the barrier between the audience and the exit ramp.

“Look, you’re letting us in. We bought tickets, which are ridiculously fucking expensive,” one of the men said. “What kind of movie is $35? Is this 3-D? They’re wearing tights?”

“Brock, shh--” a woman’s voice said. “Can you page her?”

“We don’t have a system,” the usher said.

“And my dog is waiting--” the man said.

“Jane will take care of Massimo, she wanted to stay and hold him,” the woman said.

“She just has a ballet phobia,” he said.

“Greetings, people of the theater!” another voice boomed. “I am searching for my Lightning Sister!”

The audience groaned. “Oh, no,” Darcy said. “That’s me.”

“Shut up!” someone said.

“Thor?” Steve said.

“Darcy?” Sharon called.

“Shhhhh,” someone said.

“Sharon?” Steve said. He rose. “We’re over here.”

“Hi,” Darcy waved.

“Don’t fucking tell me I paid $70 to find her and _they’re here together_ ,” Brock said, as they walked up the aisle.

“I won’t,” Sharon said, suppressing a laugh. He’d insisted on paying for her ticket because “the boyfriend pays, Carter, I have integrity.”

“So, anybody got popcorn?” Brock asked, when they’d shuffled around, to assorted boos and hisses.

“Here,” Darcy said. She and Steve had both gotten huge buckets, thankfully: Darcy because she loved popcorn, Steve because he ate a lot.

“This is entertaining,” Thor announced. “I do not know why it gives Jane hives of the neck.”

“Shut up,” someone in the back said.

“I am a prince of Asgard!” Thor called.

“You’re a drunk!” a woman said. Darcy and Steve looked at each other and giggled.

  


They laughed even more after the ballet. “She is asleep,” Thor whispered quietly. They’d found Jane asleep with Massimo in the back of Brock’s SUV. Jane was using the dog’s car seat as a pillow. Massimo woke up, blinked, and wagged his tail.

“Cute dog, Rumlow,” Steve said.

“I know you’re making fun of me, but I don’t care,” Brock said. He had his arm around Sharon and was smiling. “He’s a good dog, Cap.”

“He did get you the girl,” Sharon whispered, bumping his shoulder.

“Really?” Brock said.

“You’re dating my Sharon?” Steve said.

“I can date who I like and if you don’t want me to tell Darcy USO stories, you’ll behave,” Sharon said. Steve looked momentarily chagrined.

“Oh, I want to hear them anyway,” Darcy said. “Steve, give Rumlow hell.” Steve brightened.

“Everybody want to come back to my place? I’ve got decorations?” Steve said.

“Aye,” Thor said. “Excellent plan. We shall have a party to celebrate your reunion with my Lightning Sister.”

“Who he tried to set you up with before,” Sharon commented wryly.

“Really?” Darcy said, looking up from where she was petting Massimo.

“He didn’t want to go with you because he was still hung up on you,” Sharon said, laughing.

“Awwww,” Darcy said.

 

Steve walked her back to the Skittle. They were going to follow him. Thor was riding in the SUV with a sleeping Jane. “Well,” Steve said. “That’s a shoe all right. I like your antlers, though.” Rumlow had been making jokes and Thor had finally admitted it was a little small. He wanted to keep it though.

“You do?” Darcy said, smiling. “You don’t think it’s silly?”

“Just wait until you see my apartment,” he said, beaming.

“This isn’t just a ploy to get me in your place, is it?”

“No, ma’am,” he said. “I do have a plan for prank decorating Natasha’s, though, if you’re willing?”

“Absolutely,” she said, leaning up to kiss him.

Someone honked. “Will you two cut it out? Massimo is ready for his next meal!” Brock yelled out the SUV window. “C’mon!”

“He can’t eat in the car like other children?” Darcy yelled back.

“He gets car sick if he tries to eat while we’re moving!” Brock said.

Thor rolled down his window. “Merry Christmas!” he called to several stunned-looking shoppers. Steve--after a brief smirk at Darcy--opened Darcy’s car door.

“Merry Christmas,” he said. “Also, welcome to asylum, we’re all a little mad here.” She nodded and grinned.

“Merry Christmas, Captain,” she told him. “I’ll follow you.”

“Can somebody follow somebody?” Brock yelled.

“Hush, it’s sweet,” Sharon scolded him. In the backseat, Jane snored while Massimo licked her face. Thor was still waving at passerby out the window.

“Merry Christmas!” he shouted.

  


-The End-

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy holidays, everyone!


End file.
